


Mourning Murphy

by car_yl



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:09:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/car_yl/pseuds/car_yl
Summary: Harry needs to talk to Marion about her daughter and Rick is there.
Relationships: Harry Dresden/Karrin Murphy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 61





	1. Mourning - 101

**Author's Note:**

> All characters and the universe belong to Jim Butcher. That is all.

Mourning Murphy - 101

It was a raw day in early November when I finally found the courage to knock on Marion Murphy’s door. It wasn’t that I was afraid of her or any of the Murphy clan. It was the fear of having a complete emotional breakdown in front of them as I tried to answer their questions. They would all have some and answers weren’t in abundance for mortals following the Battle of the Bean. Karrin was listed as ‘missing, presumed dead’. I believe I owe it to her to ease her family’s suffering and pain by confirming her death. They need to grieve and move on. Even if I might never be able to.

So, I stood in my battle scarred duster in a new pair of black jeans that actually fit -shamed into buying them by Molly who said Maggie was going to suffer enough embarrassment because of me without looking like all my clothes came from thrift shops. Well, in the past they had. - a plain black long sleeved T-shirt, no logo or ironic graphics, and my trademark stubble. I looked like a man in mourning, which I was, am and probably always will be.

Dry leaves danced across the porch as a chilled breeze gusted briefly. “I never really got to take Karrin dancing,” the thought stabbed me in the heart as it flitted across my idling brain.

That happened at least ten times a day; a ‘we never got to’ or a memory of something we’d done or said or were would be triggered by simple, every day occurrences or snatches of conversations and cause a twist of pain in my core. We’d known each other for the better part of 20 years and I’d been in some form of love with her for all that time. First she was my friend; the kind that helped you make ends meet and fed you when you couldn’t feed yourself; the kind who would pull you out of the deepest, darkest, most obsessive place you'd ever been -after Susan left Chicago the first time. Then later, as the girl I loved but couldn’t have because our baggage kept us at arms length from each other. Later still as the woman I now knew could never be replaced, the one no one else could stand in for. Lastly and for too brief a time as a sweetheart and a lover. After years of dancing around we only had a few months. Months!

We’d both wanted so much more, Yes, we would have fought over our issues. We always had but we’d always worked it out. We would have again. I still want more. But I’ll never get any more. Never see her face, hear her voice-

Gah! That’s how grief is. It’s not a straight line journey. It’s a series of spiraling trails that, I’m told, get wider and further apart as time passes and you practice dealing with it, with the pain. I’ll have to get back to you on that. Like I said, ten times a day, at least…

“Dresden! What are you doing here?” It was Karrin’s ex, Agent Rick Broughton, FBI.

“I, uh, came to see Marion.” I stammered. I hadn’t expected to see him today.

“She’s not receiving visitors,” Rick bit back at me sharply.

“I wanted to tell her about,” I paused and swallowed down the lump in my throat, “Karrin.” My voice quavered just speaking her name.

Agent Rick narrowed his eyes at me. “Wait here,” he said and shut the door in my face. I blinked in shock and surprise and to clear away the blurriness in my vision. I slid my hands into the pockets of my duster and stood staring at the door for a long minute or two trying to decide whether or not to stay. I Listened and heard raised voices inside. If they had to fight over letting me in… 

I’d just turned to go when the door was yanked open with some degree of force. The oldest of Karrin’s two brothers held the knob with one hand and with the other yanked me into a bear hug pulling me inside as he did. It wasn’t a formal invitation but my magic came with me across the threshold so I guess it was good enough.

“Why didn’t you come sooner?” He spoke softly into my chest because that’s where his head hit me, just under the chin. He pushed me back to look into my face holding me at arm’s length. Behind him I could see the rest of Karrin’s nuclear family, except for Marion.

“I..” a deep, shuddering breath that was nearly a sob escaped me as my eyes slid over eyes the same shade of blue, the same shape as Karrin’s, “couldn’t.” I had to swallow down another lump before I could continue. “Why? What’s happened?” I ask in a voice still raw from months of weeping.

“I thought…. I thought that you must have heard… that that’s why you were finally here.” he stammered.

Karrin’s other brother stepped up then. He must have seen and recognized the confusion on my face, the question in my eyes. “Mom had a stroke after the Battle, when they put Karrin on the list.” He was almost whispering. “She’s had a series of mini strokes since. We’re ..” It was his turn to swallow a lump.

“Death watch,” The words came out on a breath, a thought made barely audible. Both brothers nodded. I felt my knees wobble. I grabbed the nearest shoulder for support as black dots appeared and disappeared at the edges of my field of vision, floating and popping like so many dark bubbles. After a few deep, deep breathes my vision cleared. I let go of the shoulder, able to stand on my own again. “How long?” I ground out.

Most of the faces in the room reflected back grief at the words. Rick’s face was hard and narrow of eye. I didn’t understand it in that moment but I recognized his anger, aimed at me, as usual. It was writ large on his bland face. Then, I knew! I knew he was hiding his pain behind the anger, just as I use wise cracks to hide fear, just as I use anger to overcome physical pain and discomfort and just as I’ve used acting oblivious to ignore uncomfortable emotions and attractions in the past. Just as I wish I could use it now to dull the emotional pain.

But the pain of losing Karrin has been too deep to ignore, too large to circumvent and it’s never going to go away. Yes, I can box it up for a little while but it. keeps. getting. out! It will get easier to function. The pain will fade from agonizing to bearable. I know, I’ve been through this before. This time though the hole is never going to close, never scab over or scar. Karrin’s loss hasn’t just wounded my heart. It’s reshaped it.

And now Marion was leaving too. She’s the last living link to Karrin’s childhood, to her life before we met. That knowledge made me realize how much I’d missed of her life, how much I still didn’t know and now, would never know. I’d been standing there staring into the middle distance while my brain processed this input. And they all just let me do it. “Can she talk?” I asked.

“Yes, but not well and she’s not always…. all there.” Lisa sighed. She’d come forward to take Rick’s arm, to draw him away.

“Can I see her? Say good-bye?” the plea was audible even to my ears. “I can answer some questions,” I offered. “About K-Karrin. I was with her when…” I made a gesture, a meaningless wave thing and swallowed hard. “At the end.”

Gasps and other sounds issued from the group. Her brothers made guttural noises that I recognized. I’d made them when Murphy died. I knew then that they’d been holding on to hope that she was still out there, one of the unidentified wounded; that she'd come back. I had. And I’d just killed that hope. But all of the women, their faces… 

They’d known; known Murphy would never have let her mom worry like that for months on end, that she’d have found a way to get in touch if she were able, that she’d have found a way to be at her mother’s bedside.

Rick’s face was hard. He hadn’t hoped for the improbable. He’d known too.

Murphy’s little brothers flanked me, each leaning into a shoulder, and shed silent tears. It was only then that I realized they'd all survived. All of her nuclear family was here, healthy and whole except for Karrin. She'd have been happy about that.

“It’s probably good Mom didn’t know that for sure.” Sniffed the younger of the two. I wondered if she would have even had that first stroke if Karrin were still here, if she’d survived. She’d been a cop’s wife and the mother of cops. She knew the score.

“Go, say good-bye,” the other brother pointed me down the hall. “But don’t mention Karrie until she asks.” I nodded, but I knew it would be the first thing she would ask.

“I’ll show you,” said, of all people, Lisa. Taking the sleeve of my duster but not actually touching me, she led me down the hall toward the sickroom they’d set up for Marion. “I miss her.” she stated as we reached the door.

I started at that. She shot me a wry smile, more of a grimace really. “I know I was a bitch to her, but I did love her. I was just a bit jealous. I kind of wanted to be her, but I couldn’t even be like her.” Her voice broke.

“Nobody could,” I assured her. “I guess I never thought about how hard it would be to grow up in her shadow.”

Lisa gasped. She looked up at me and said, “Thank you, Harry.” Then she patted my arm and returned the way we had come.

I squared my shoulders and reached for the doorknob. Then it hit me! I was going to have to do this twice! In the space of an hour or so, I was going to have to answer the questions and tell the tale Twice. Telling the tale was why I was here, but -my whole body winced- did I have it in me to do it TWICE? Once was eating me alive. I felt like a man about to face his own execution. I knew that feeling all too well.

I turned the knob. I opened the door. I stepped in.

The room was bright. The wan November light was streaming in through sheer curtains hung at the single window. The floor space was almost totally taken up by the rented hospital bed. Marion sat propped against the elevated head of said bed in a halo of pillows. She was thinner and paler than I’d ever seen her. Yet, her eyes were bright and aware.

“Harry,” she exclaimed reaching out both hands in my direction. The left hand didn’t come up far from the bed but the fingers were stretched. The left side of her face sagged dramatically and she’d slurred my name. I stepped forward and took her cold hands in mine. She tugged me forward and I went with it until she’d managed to pull me into a warm hug. She’d always like me. Why, God only knows. I leaned into the pillows behind her head thinking, “She’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother or mother-in-law,” I hugged back gently, my vision blurring from un-shed tears.

“I’d have been by sooner if I’d known you were ill,” trying to imply the apology I felt she deserved.

She looked at me with very shiny eyes and a trembling lip. “I know,” she whispered. Then, in a louder voice she said, “Nurse, go tell the children I’ll be talking to Harry for a while. I’ll be fine but please, bring Harry a coke.” Marion and I both smiled. She’d remembered my addiction. Her words were definitely slurred but I only had to Listen at an unconscious level to make them out.

And then we were alone in the utilitarian little space that had probably once been a home office, but was now her sickroom. It was a pleasant enough room but it was plain. It didn’t reflect Marion. On a side table were paperwork and pills and an insulated pitcher of probably water. The hospital bed and two chairs were the sum total of the remaining furnishings. Sheer curtains flanked by dark green paisley drapes and a few family portraits were the only decorations on the walls. 

“Sit Harry,” she said gesturing toward the chair the nurse had vacated. It looked the more comfortable choice. However, it was way too small. So I sat on the arm as I often did when I had the option. “And here I thought you always sat on the arm of Karrie’s chair so you’d have an excuse to put your arm around her in front of her brothers.” Marion said with a little chuckle.

“That was certainly a part of it.” I said, grinning in a weak, wobbly sort of way. I froze, WAS, I’d said was!

“Harry, do you Know what happened to my Karrie?” I nodded. “Then tell me, please.” her voice was both a plea and a command. The tone so like Karrin’s when she was talking down a perp.

I swallowed hard. “I tried to keep her behind the lines,” I told her. “But she wouldn’t stay there.”

“Hmm, yes. That was our girl.” She said closing her eyes and nodded. “Go on, Harry.”

“A stray bullet from a fear crazed, um, citizen caught her neck just above the vest.” I gestured to the spot on my own neck that corresponded to Murphy’s wound. “Here. I was-“ I choked, “It was so fast. There was so much blood. She bled out in a matter of minutes. I was with her. She didn’t die alone,” I assured her. “After…. I kind of lost myself for a bit. I chased the guy down. I broke his wrist getting the gun off him. I beat on him. I wanted to kill him for taking her away.” My hands had turned into fists on my knees. I struck my own knee a few times. Then I opened my fingers and gave my hands a shake or two letting the fists go.

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Kill him?” Marion Murphy asked, with in a flat tone, an emotionless expression on her face.

I shook my head. “I was stopped by some friends. Karrin wouldn’t have wanted that. She would have been ashamed of me, if I had; afraid for my soul.”

Marion sighed, “Yes, you’re right. She wouldn’t have wanted you to.” After a brief pause she asked, “What will happen to him?”

“Um, he’s also among the missing,” I answered quietly. And no, I don’t feel guilty about that.

“Karrie is listed among the missing.” She paused, “What happened to her body?”

I wasn’t about to tell this Catholic matron that her daughter had been recruited by a pagan deity to prepare for Ragnarock - or Armageddon in her theology, I guess. So, I told her about carrying Murphy back to the Bean and handing her over to the ‘personnel’ there. I told her I’d been dragged back to rejoin the battle and that Murph’s body was gone by the time I was able to return many hours later.

When I’d finished the story, she reached for me. We held each other and cried for a while. It felt good, cathartic. After we’d stopped crying, Marion asked me to get two things out of the window sill, a box and a photo album. She opened the album awkwardly with her uncooperative left hand. I thought of my own one handed experiences and of Karrin’s more recent struggles and took a shaky breath. Then Marion began to tell me stories of Karrin’s childhood, punctuated with photos from the album.

I knew this was probably going to be my last chance to hear this, so I used a little magic to cement them into memory and risked blowing up the electronics in the room. I know it was selfish but right then I chose to **be** a little selfish.

Marion and I laughed and cried and shared Murphy’s life. We came to the picture of her graduation from the police academy and there, Marion sighed. I gave her hand a squeeze. I could see she was tiring, that this was the end of my idyll with her.

I stood, “I’d better go,” I said but as I turned to do so, Marion kept hold of my hand.

“A moment more, Harry,” I stopped. I sat again on the arm of that overstuffed armchair and waited for whatever might come.

“Open the box, Harry,” She pushed it toward me. It was a nice wooden box and smelled faintly of the wood itself as if it were new. I opened it and inside were 6 fairly clear snapshots of Karrin and I together at various Murphy family gatherings, and one of Murph, Maggie and me at the last gathering before the battle. Karrin was still in her casts. Not one of the three of us was looking at the camera but all three of our faces were clearly, sharply visible. I analyzed our expressions. Maggie was smiling with such unadulterated joy that it took my breath away. I was looking at Murph with what can only be described as worship. I checked the other photos. Any time I was looking at Murph it was always the same expression. So was hers. In every photo she was looking at me with pure love radiating from her eyes. No wonder everyone believed we were together, even before we were. ‘What fools these mortals be’ were the words I heard in my mind.

“Take the box with you Harry, and these.” She handed me two 5 x 7 portraits of Karrin. The first was Karrin in her uniform, looking just as she did when we first met on that bridge that night so long ago. The second was of more recent vintage, taken right before she left CPD. She looked like she’d looked that night, determined, strong, fearlessly facing the world. “Remember her for me.” Marion whispered.

I slipped the portraits into the box with the snapshots and nodded. “I promise I will never forget her as long as I draw breath.” The irony and the pain of that promise wouldn’t, couldn’t be understood by vanilla mortals who didn’t know of Einherjaren or believe there was a real Valhalla, but I knew. “I loved her Marion. The capital L kind. If we’d had time…” I let the sentence die, unfinished.

“I know,” she said softly reaching for my arm. I moved to sit on the edge of the bed so she could better reach me. “I knew it the first time we met. The way you looked at Karrin in that silly yellow dress I’d made her? It was as if you’d had an epiphany. You were dumbstruck and I knew that you’d be my next son-in-law- sooner or later. Especially after you won that argument with her and were still on your feet.” She teased.

“You asked me to look after her that day.” I recalled avoiding looking at her face. “I let you down. She died in my arms,” I was tearing up again, “I was only feet away when she was shot and I didn’t… I couldn’t..” I stammered.

“Oh Harry, you kept her sane!” Marion averred grasping my elbow as strongly as she was able. “You walked with her in the middle of the darkness you both chose to fight and you kept each other whole. I never expected you to keep her safe or free from injury or even alive. I know she was with you that night by her own choice and probably - no- certainly against your wishes.” I glanced at her out of the side of my face. Marion smiled. “Karrie said you’d been a bit -her word- overprotective since her accident.”

I smile back. “Yeah, she said that to me too.” I looked back down at that last portrait.

“Harry?”

“Hmm,” very articulate me.

“You did what I asked of you and more. I wanted you to be there for her and you were.”

“ Until her literal last breath,” I assured her. Then I stood and positioned myself above her hospital bed as I had positioned myself above Karrin’s hospital bed just months before and I kissed her.. on the forehead and cheek.

“Try to come see me again before I go?” more of a question than a command this time in the voice,

"I will,” I answered wondering if I would, if I could. I picked up the box and left the room closing the door quietly as I went.

I walked back into the front room to Murphy’s family, my chest less tight than it had been before. I repeated the story for them just as I’d told it to Marion. it was easier this time. My insides weren’t twisting in knots every few words with the repetition. I answered their questions.

However, these were law enforcement professionals. Their questions were different. Yet, they didn’t treat me like it was an interrogation, more like gathering a victim statement. Until Rick asked, “Did you know the shooter?”

I hung my head looking at fists in my lap again and nodded.

“Who was it?” He pushed.

“It was that little IA weasel Rudolph. He’d totally lost it.” My fists on my knees were beginning to ache.

“Who did you tell?” Rick asked pointedly.

I looked up in surprise. “No one,” I said through gritted teeth. “No witnesses that weren’t my friends, no body for forensics to examine, no ballistics. And I’d assaulted the guy, a police officer. Who could I tell?”

“Us,” said both brothers in unison.

“Okay,” I said, “but he’s among the missing.” I spread my hands in that universal helpless gesture.

“He’d better stay that way,” murmured one of the brothers.

“Rudolph was investigating Karrin and I for that big bank heist last year. It’s another reason I didn’t think I’d be believed.” I told them.

“I think I can get some federal oversight committee looking into IA abuses in Chicago with that information.” Rick said flatly. That surprised me considerably.

“He’s all yours now then. I’ve already taken my pound of flesh.” There were questioning non-verbal responses to that. “I beat on the guy pretty good. I know I broke at least one bone.” I looked around at the gathered law enforcement, “There were no witnesses and if asked again, I will deny this statement.” There were wry smiles at that. “I just hope I never see the guy again. I might not be able to contain the anger if he’s in close proximity.”

“Why didn’t you finish the job then?” Rick asked, just a hint of heat in his voice.

“A couple of friends arrived in time to remind me that Karrin wouldn’t have approved.” I said, “and no, I will NOT give you their names. Karrin wouldn’t.”

“So, is that your new mantra?” Rick gritted at me.

“Yes,” I glared at him, “WWKD. What would Karrin do?”

There were a few titters and exhalations that were close to laughter at that. Rick’s face softened and one corner of his mouth lifted. He looked down at the floor. “That’s a good one,” he whispered under his breath. But I was close enough to hear it.

I stood to leave and Rick said, “I’ll walk you out.” Several Murphys looked as surprised as I felt. Everyone knew the animosity Rick and I felt for each other. 

I was curious so I said okay. A moment later we stepped out onto the porch together.

“What is it you have to get off your chest, Rick?” I asked shucking back into my duster.

“Do you know why I dislike you, Harry?”

“Because you never stopped loving Karrin. Because you never really intended to let her get away, but your ultimatums and her independent streak pushed the two of you into a corner neither of you could get out of and because I’m the guy she loved next.”

Rick gaped at me, “Yes,... all of that.”

“You know Rick, I’ve almost enjoyed getting to be the petty bastard towards you and Lisa these last few years. It was little enough revenge for the pain you both caused Karrin. I’ve never liked seeing women hurt, especially not her. Yet, I’ve never really known whether to kiss you or kick you.”

“What?” he seemed a little shocked.

“Well, if you hadn’t been such a colossal ass, you’d have stayed married to Murphy. You’d have had those kids of yours with her when her biological clock kicked into high gear. And I- I would have remained just her wizard consultant. So, it’s because you were a dick that she was free to love me.”

“What about Mr. Hawaii?” he sneered.

“Nobody wants to be the rebound guy.” I laughed. “Yeah, he lasted longer than I expected but he was necessary. The rebound guy never gets to keep the girl.”

“He had her longer than you,” he snarled.

‘Yeah,” I sighed, a little afraid it was about to turn into a sob, “That’s the kick you part.”

“Huh?”

“If you hadn’t hurt her so badly, so deeply; so completely damaged her ability to trust men it wouldn’t have taken her so long to put you in the rear view. You’re the reason it took her 8 years to shed all that baggage and finally…” I let the sentence end before I choked again. “Four months Rick. Thanks to you, I only got to truly love her for four months.” It was a statement of fact and an accusation. I took a step away from him and a shaky breath. “Tell Marion I’ll be back tomorrow,” I said as I stepped off the porch and headed toward the ‘company car’.

But I didn’t go back because Marion died in the night. One less person to remember my Murphy.


	2. SHARING MEMORIES OF LOVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie has some questions for Harry about Love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still processing after BG.

SHARING MEMORIES OF LOVE

We had been to the Carpenter’s for dinner. It had been a pleasant evening. Yet, I had been a little uncomfortable watching Maggie interact with young Harry. I’d exchanged a few eyebrow raised glances with Michael, to see if he saw what I thought I saw. He’d just shrugged. I’d tried to catch Charity’s eyes but she had studiously avoided my attempts all evening. Her lips had been twitching at the corners frequently, however.  
Yeah, I think my little girl has a thing- a maybe crush on young Harry. That’s a little awkward at their current ages but when she’s 20 and he’s 24…. If he’s half the man his father is or even has half Charity’s strength of character I probably wouldn’t complain if they wanted to date .. but she’s not getting married until she’s 30!

“Yeah right, Dad”, I could hear Molly mimicking Maggie and straightening me out about that. Molly’s rebellious teen years may be aiding me in raising my prepubescent daughter. After all, I was never a teen-age girl.

Anyway, this possible crush on young Harry is just something that bears watching.

Maggie and I were sitting at opposite ends of my comfy extra long Chesterfield sofa reading in front of the hearth while I pondered on this deeply disturbing subject. -Deeply disturbing to a father of only one mortal girl child who was rushing toward puberty and her first crush anyway.- When Maggie put down her book with a sigh. 

“Dad?”

“Um?” I acknowledge with a twinge of apprehension and a twang of regret. Hells Bells, I missed Karrin. I’d hoped she’d be here with me when this day came; the day I had to have the ‘love’ talk with my daughter. The sex talk had actually been easier. All I’d had to do was confirm or deny or clarify the information she’d gotten in class at school. Well, and answer a few awkward questions about my own sex life. Boy, that had been Fun, not!

I’d never been more grateful for my lack of ‘experience’. I was able to say with absolute conviction and with my life as an example that sex was an experience best shared with someone you loved; that it wasn’t just a pleasurable, recreational activity. I also was able to tell her that magic made sex different for wizards and such because there was a sharing of auras and powers that didn’t happen quite the same way for vanilla mortals. But this was the ‘love’ talk. Hells Bells, I wished then that I was a praying man.

“Did you love my mom?” Maggie looked up from under her long, dark lashes.

“Yes Maggie, I Ioved her very much.” I answered. I had.

“Why?” She asked.

Wow! Not quite what I’d expected. I had to give that some thought. I must have stayed quiet longer than Maggie expected me too. 

“Dad?” She prompted.

“I’m trying to think how to put it into words, Maggie. It’s a big question and the answer isn’t just one thing.”

I thought a moment or two more. Maggie sighed, an exasperated sound. “I loved your mother because, she was passionate and I don’t just mean sex. She was passionate about everything, especially about getting to the truth of something and telling that truth to as many people as possible. I loved her because she was strong and beautiful and because she made me feel strong too. She made me feel like I was attractive too. I mean, I was- am a skinny, awkward, gawky, too tall drink of water. She made me want to stand tall and throw my shoulders back and tell the world, ‘She’s with me.’”

“Did mom love you?” Ouch- just ouch.

“More than I knew at the time.” I answered.

“Then why did she leave you, Dad?” She’d drawn her knees up to her chest and was looking at her toes.

“Because she wanted to protect me and because she wanted to stop the people who had hurt us both.” I felt that was close enough to the truth.

“Why didn’t you go with her?” Again she glanced at my face. I wondered if any of the old pain was showing in my eyes that were looking over her head, staring into the middle distance, at the replayed scenes in my head; Susan and me on the beach when she rejected my ring, the postcard she’d sent me for my birthday that year -lost when my apartment had burned-.

“I couldn’t join her fight. I had a fight of my own, that I’d started because of her. I couldn’t run away from it.” I felt my heart twist just a little. It’d taken me a long time to truly accept that truth. Karrin had helped me see it. I went on, “There’s a quote by a famous french philosopher named Albert Camus that reminds me of your mother every time I read it, ‘A taste for truth at any cost is a passion which spares nothing’. That was your mom. In the end, we couldn’t both do what we needed to do and stay together. Plus, she’d been afraid we’d destroy one another after the Red Vampires hurt us. She was probably right.” I reflected idly that I probably would never have picked up a philosophy book had ‘Cujo’ Hendricks had survived the Battle of the Bean. I’d only read Camus as a kind of tribute to Nathan and because I knew I didn’t buy into Nietzsche.

“When did you stop loving her?” I gasped, but I answered her.

“When she told me that she’d kept you hidden from me for all those years.” My voice flat. “That hurt me more than any other pain I’d ever felt. I knew I’d never be able to forgive her for doing to you what had been done to me, for taking away your family. She knew it too.”

“Then why did she do it, Dad?” there was a tone of desperation in Maggie’s voice. She’d ask some of the other questions before but not this one.

“She truly, deeply believed she was keeping you safe.” I said reaching over to stroke her cheek.

“But it didn’t work.” Maggie turned her cheek into my palm. I felt damp lashes brush against my skin.

“No, but even grown ups make mistakes. Your grandfather did the same thing to me.”

She looked up at me. There was shock on her face. “Really?”

“Uh huh,” I nodded. “He thought I’d be safer away from him. I just wasn’t as lucky with my foster parents as you were kiddo. Some of mine were pretty bad. I wasn’t an easy kid. I was grieving my dad and the first couple of families just didn’t know how to deal with me. But your mom, she found some good people to take care of you and she checked up on you often. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember her visits.” There was a pause. I dropped my hand breathing a sigh of relief that this was over for tonight. I was premature in my relief.

“Dad?”

“Yes Maggie,” I held my breath. 

“When did you know you loved me?” Whew, this one, at least, was easy.

“Well, it took me a couple of hours to get over the shock when your mom finally told me you existed. But as soon as I got over that,” I said with a big, toothy smile, “the love for you just exploded in me like a big, old bomb. I knew from that second on that I would fight not just vampires but the whole of existence to keep you safe.”

Maggie smiled a weak, watery smile back at me. “But you didn’t come get me right away.” 

My smile faded, “No, Maggie, I almost fell for the same lie your mom and grandpa did; that you’d be safer without me. And then I got hurt. You know the story, how I almost died from being shot, then how I had to stay on the island until Bonnie could be taken safely out of my head so I wouldn’t die again.”

“Yeah,” she said with another sigh.”

“But I knew where you were and as soon as I knew you knew who I was and not some random stranger, I started making plans to have you with me.” I reminded her.

“Because if I’m going to be in danger because of you, you’re going to be the one to protect me.” She finished the story as I usually ended it.

“Well, me and Mouse,” I said, reaching to the floor between us where mouse was curled, scratching his fluffy ears.

“Dad?” Now what?

“When did you start loving Karrin?” I swallowed, hard. There was still a gaping hole in my heart where Karrin used to be.

“I’m not really sure, punkin. I loved her as a friend even when your mom was in my life.”

“Uh huh, but when did you start capital L- loving her?”

“I can’t pinpoint it, Maggie. It kind of crept up on me, but I can tell you when it finally dawned on me that Murphy was more than ‘one of the guys’.”

She’d curled her knees underneath her sometime during the last few seconds and now she leaned forward eagerly, “When?” 

“At a Murphy family picnic, which was the first time I ever saw her in a dress.”

“Yeah Dad?”

“Yeah, my heart just did a little flip flop and I thought, ‘What is happening here?’ and it dawned on me that Murphy was -gasp- a girl and that -wow- I really, really liked girl Murphy.” I really hammed this part up.

“And then what Dad?”

“And then she met Mr. Kincaid and it took me six LONG years before she kicked him to the curb.” I sighed resignedly.

“Why Dad? Why didn’t you do something?” She asked heatedly.

“Because she’d been divorced twice and said she didn’t want anything permanent right then. And because I knew I didn’t want to be casual or temporary. I knew I wanted the rest of her life.” And I’d gotten it when we finally got together. I felt a tear in the corner of my eye and blinked it away, hoping Maggie hadn’t seen. “So I decided to wait it out. I just didn’t know I’d be waiting so long.”

“But you eventually got together.”

“Yep.” For four glorious, head over heels, blissful months. Four months! I wanted to scream at the unfairness of that, but I didn’t. Not in front of Maggie.

“What did you love about Karrin?” She sat back into the corner of the couch again. Pulling away. Another sign of puberty. She’d have climbed up into my lap a few months ago.

“What did I love about Karrin?” I repeated. “What didn’t I love about Karrin?” I took a deep breath and began trying to answer the question I’d never had to ask myself, “I loved that she was strong and fierce. In my eyes she was nearly superhuman. I loved that she could toss me on my ass. I loved that she could out shoot me. I loved that she never seemed afraid of anything, even when we both knew it was an act. I loved that she forced me to tell her the truth about everything and barely flinched when I did; not just the stuff about magic but about my screwed up life. I loved that she wanted to defend me and fight my battles with me. I loved how she used to call me on my BS and tease me about my weaknesses and quirks. I loved that I knew I could trust her with everything I was and had. I loved that I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would never betray me.” Here my voice broke, “I’m sorry Maggie, I just loved her and it still hurts that she’s gone.”

“Did it hurt you when you and mom split or when mom died?” Barely a whisper.

“Yes, I nearly killed myself trying to find a cure for your mom for a year and half after she left for South America the first time. Murphy and Michael- they saved my life then. I was so broken up and obsessed I’d have ended up homeless and starving if not for them. And when she died- Well, I got shot the next day, so it took a while to really hit me but I still have nightmares about that, Maggie.”

“You do?” Wide eyes staring at my forehead, as close to my eyes as she can get without a soul gaze happening. I’m not ready for her to see my soul. I don’t know if I ever will be.

“Yes, I do.” I turned to stare into the flames as the fire burned low in the hearth.

“Do you still cry over Mom?” Again, barely a whisper.

“No Maggie, not any more, and someday, a long time from now, I won’t cry over Karrin either. It will still hurt a little, but not as much. You just- you kind of get used to it. You adapt to the way things are even when they’re not what you wanted them to be.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “But Dad?” 

I gulped, what else? 

“What are some specific things you liked about mom and Karrin?”

“Specific, how specific? What exactly are you asking me, Mags?”

“Did you like mom’s hair? or Karrin’s? Did you love them the same?”

“I loved them differently, because they were different people. They had some things in common; like being strong and independent but no, I didn’t love them the same.”

“Tell me how, Dad. Tell me how they were different.” her voice wasn’t so much eager as insistent.

“Well, Susan was taller. You have her hair.”

“And your eyes. Mom always said I had my dad’s eyes.”

“She did? Well, yeah, and your mom always smelled of cinnamon and coffee. Murphy always smelled of strawberries and gun oil.” I said with a little laugh and a half smile.   
Maggie smiled too, at that.

“What do I smell like, Dad?” 

“Like sunshine on fresh cut grass,” I said on an outgoing breath. 

“Susan was dark and exotic and mysterious, to me at least. She was only the second person I’d ever loved. I was oh 25-26 when we first got together.” I mused, “Karrin was sunshine and light, like a guardian angel.” Damn, I was misting up again. “Your mom, she pulled me into her like the gravity of a black hole; quick!” I snapped my fingers, “I was in love with her before I knew what hit me. With Murph, … well, I’ve already told you- she was a slow burn. When I kissed your mom, she tasted like dark chocolate.” I closed my eyes, remembering.

“And when you kissed Karrin?”

I felt myself smile, “She tasted of strawberries, too.” My eyes flew open and I looked at Maggie. “Oh Maggie, you probably don’t need to know that!”

“What do I taste like, Daddy?” Ooops, I’d shaken her up a little if she had reverted to calling me Daddy. What could I say that would fix this? What?! I couldn’t say that I didn’t give her the kind of kisses that left a sense memory on my tongue without opening a whole kettle of worms I was NOT ready to deal with tonight. I had to come up with something!

“Sugar,” I blurted out, “You taste like pure sugar, like cotton candy.” The only time her kiss had ever had a flavor was at the fair when she’d given me sticky kisses after I’d bought her cotton candy. It had been all over her face and ended up all over mine. I laughed a little and forced a smile.

“Really Dad?” It was almost a plea.

“Really,” I answered grinning, “I’ll never lie to you. I may not always give you answers when you want them, but I’ll never lie to you, Maggie.” It was a promise but since it wasn’t made by my power or name or anything in particular, it wouldn’t have a compulsory aspect.

“Really Dad?”

“Really, really.” I repeated, nodding firmly. Thank all that's holy she didn't ask a third time. She knew the rule of threes. She could have done it. But she knew I wouldn't like it. My disapproval is just about all the punishment Maggie needs to fall in line, so far.

“Dad?” Hell's Bells, more?!

“Did you ever play the guitar for mom?” Her head was cocked to one side.

“No Maggie, I didn’t begin to learn to play the guitar until after we split up.” Solid ground at least, I hoped.

“Oh, but you did play for Karrin didn’t you?” She cocked her head in the other direction.

“Yes, I did, a few times.” Where was this going?

“Could you teach someone to play the guitar?” she was looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

“I could teach you the rudiments, the basics and then if you like it, I could get you lessons from somebody better than me.” I responded.

“Can girls serenade guys?” 

“Yes, yes they can, but if you think I’m going to teach you guitar so you can serenade boyfriends, think again. That’s NOT my job. My job is to scare them into behaving like perfect gentlemen until one of them is brave enough to marry you. And that’s not going to be until you’re 30.” I flopped back into my corner of the couch crossing my arms across my chest and pretending to pout while glowering in her direction.

She giggled. So I smiled back, from within my glower, of course.

“Dad?”

“Oh Maggie, give me a break. You’ve had me on an emotional roller coaster tonight,” I thought. But I said, “Yes, Maggie?”

“Are you going to ask the guy who wants to marry me what I taste like?” She giggled again.

“Wha- wha- What?! Why you little-“ I gaped and gasped and lunged at her and began to tickle her mercilessly. I only stopped when she began gasping for breath. “Okay, that’s enough fun at your poor old dad’s expense. Off to bed with you. Teeth and jammies and I’ll be up to tuck- erm, say good-night in a minute.” Yeah, she’s too old to be tucked in, but a kiss on the forehead and a good-night at her door are still okay. For now.

I thought I had handled that pretty well. I’d answered her questions as honestly as I was able. I hadn’t volunteered information except about the taste of kisses. Stars and Stones, that could have been a disaster. Then I wondered what it would have been like to have had Karrin’s help and caught my breath, gasping at the sudden unexpected stab of pain. I knew I would dream of her in my arms tonight; that I would probably wake up crying, again. But I was glad. Glad I wasn’t forgetting her. Glad I still felt pain at her loss. Because it means she’s still my protector, my love.

I know I’ll never see her again, because she can’t come back to earth to fight for Odin until everyone who ever knew her has forgotten her. And for me, she is unforgettable. Yet, as long as I remember her, part of her still lives for me. In the hole in my heart where her presence used to live her memory still glows. I’d told Maggie that, in time, I wouldn’t cry for Murphy like I no longer do for Susan, but I think I may have broken my just made promise and lied to my little girl. 


	3. INSOMNIA AND INTERVENTION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's still mourning but making progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in Mr. Butcher's universe and trying to stay true to canon, just because it feels right. Thanks for the loan of your characters and 'verse sir.

INSOMNIA AND INTERVENTION

I woke sitting upright in bed, my arms reaching out for empty air and the feeling of a name on my lips. For the third ‘night’ in a row I’d tried to sleep in my suite in Arctis Tor. For the third ‘night’ in a row I’d had the nightmare; Karrin slipping out of my arms into a dark void which would begin to envelope me while I screamed her name.

“Sir Knight,” hissed Cat Sith, “do you require anything?”

“Have I disturbed our queen, Cat Sith?” I asked, my arms dropping to my knees on top of the puffy, weightless bedclothes.

“You have disturbed all of Winter, _again_ , Sir Knight,” Sith replied.

“Dream-quake?” I sighed

“Indeed,” Sith affirmed. “All of Winter was shaken. Shall I stay and provide you warnings as before?” He’d watched over my sleep last night and roused me by pricking me with his claws in tender portions of my anatomy when my sleep had become agitated. I certainly wouldn’t be going back to sleep tonight if he stayed.

“No,” I said, tossing off the bedclothes. “I need to get back to Chicago in a few hours anyway.” Sith nodded and disappeared in that particularly eerie way of his. I rose, dressed in clothes that ‘no longer suited my status within the Winter Court’ and opened one of the Ways Mab had had made for me to Chicago. She’d been able to create one that opened within a block of ‘the castle’, my new home on the site of my original home, and one just a street away from Murphy’s place. Tonight I chose to go to Murphy’s. 

I still maintained the place. There were enough of Murphy’s diamonds left to do so well into the next century. Maybe I’d be ready to let it go by then, I thought.

But this time the Way didn’t open a street away from Murphy’s. No, it opened in the middle of the living room, in the midst of Karrin’s siblings riffling the place!

“What the hell are you doing here?” I yelled, “And how the hell did you get in?” I’m not sure if it was the anger at finding them there, the surprise at appearing in the middle of the house or to avoid having to find a vanilla explanation for appearing through a glowing doorway in their midst that caused my outburst. I was seething. 

Kenneth held up a key. “Um, I had a backup.” he said meekly. I held out my hand. “No Harry,” he put the key in his pocket. “We’re staging an intervention. It’s been nine months. You’re supposed to be marrying someone else in ten or twelve weeks. It’s time you let this place go.”

“You don’t get a say in that!" I spat. "She didn’t leave the place to **you** , any of you. She named **me** executor and left **me** the choice of how and when to dispose of her belongings. You’re all trespassing. And key or no key, since you had it made without my knowledge, since you’re obviously planning on removing things, it’s criminal trespass. How is that going to look on your records when I call the cops and have you arrested?” I was spewing vitriol at them. I could feel Winter’s fury at the invasion of “my” territory.

“You won’t do that.” It was Lisa who spoke. Lisa! She put a hand on my forearm and looked up at me. I avoided her eyes. “Harry, you look terrible. When is the last time you slept?”

“I don’t remember,” I admitted, “I actually came here to nap.” I could hear the exhaustion in my own voice.

I heard Ken take in a long, loud breath, “Still Harry?”

I hung my head and nodded, “Still Ken. Now _please_ , leave.” I was feeling calmer but I was still tense at the invasion. I walked into Karrin’s bedroom. Her closet was empty. Her clothes piled onto the bed. I paused in the doorway at the sight. I fought down another wave of fury. I stalked over to the bed and began picking up items and putting then back in the closet. First I pulled her dress blues from the pile. She’d have been buried in them if the Valkyrie hadn’t taken her body.

She’d been so proud of that uniform, being a part of what it represented. Not for the first time I wondered how hard it had been for her knowing she couldn’t wear it any more, that she wasn’t part of CPD any longer. Yet, that night, no one who knew her treated her like an outsider. They’d listened to her warnings. I slammed the hangar back onto the rod.

Next, I pulled out the yellow dress. The dress that had changed everything, for me at least. I held it to my face and took a large sniff. Yes, it still smelled of her. I hung it next to the blues, my hand lingering on the now faded and well worn fabric. She’d worn a lot of dresses those last few months. It was easier with her leg cast. And, because she knew how much and why I liked it, she’d worn this one a lot even though it was the wrong season and she’d needed a sweater with it almost every time.

Then I turned back to the pile and I didn’t feel an attachment to what I saw. “I guess, the rest of these can go.” I said to the people I realized were standing in the doorway watching me. 

Lisa stepped forward and grabbed an armful of shirts, pants and jackets revealing two things that caught my eye. Her leather motorcycle jacket, which I snagged and sniffed. It smelled of leather and gun oil. Not quite Karrin’s scent but I hung it up in the closet anyway. One day I'd give it to Maggie.

Secondly, I noticed a piece of light blue something inside a transparent, brand new garment bag. I didn’t recognize it. So, I pulled it out. I froze. I stared at the frothy dress made of layers of opaque iced blue fabric. I began to get misty. I took in a shaky, shuddering breath before opening the garment bag. I buried my face in the whisper light cloth. It didn’t smell of her. She’d never worn it, but I knew what it was and I sobbed. I broke down completely I should say. I lost myself in my tears in front of all of Karrin’s siblings and their spouses.

When I came back to myself I was curled around the dress lying on Karrin’s bed- our bed. The pillow beneath my head was soaked. Tears were still flowing down my face. I could feel an ache around my ribs that was, by now, familiar. I’d been sobbing full body sobs. I knew from experience that I’d cried myself breathless, that it was only my body’s need for oxygen that had brought me out of the wracking grief. I sat up, still clutching the dress to my chest with one hand. I used the other to wipe at my face.

“God, Harry,” whispered Kevin, the younger of Karrin’s two brothers. I think I grunted.

“What is that dress, Harry?” Lisa asked softly as she knelt in front of me, a hand on my knee. I knew it was intended to be a comforting touch and nothing more. I still felt uncomfortable with the new Lisa, the one who missed Karrin, the one who finally knew what she’d thrown away all those years.

“Her- her wedding dress,” I choked out. “Custom made I think. It’s ex- exactly as I described it to her.” I flicked a glance up and around the assembled faces. They now stood all around the bed. I was so embarrassed that they’d all gathered round and watched me sobbing incoherently. How long, I wondered, had it taken? I was embarrassed that they’d seen how broken I still was, how much I missed her, how much I’d needed her. And then, I wasn’t! 

“Let them see!” I thought defiantly. Maybe then they’d stop trying to get rid of her memory. Maybe they’d leave me and this place alone. I’d loved her for the better part of a decade. How dare they put a time limit on my grief!

“We- we- She didn’t want to get married again, but she knew _I_ wanted to marry _her_. She- she teased me. Said I didn’t really want marriage as much as a wedding because I’d never had one." I felt my mouth quirk in an imitation of a half-smile. "We- t-talked about what kind of wedding we’d have- if- if we ev- ever had one. I described this dress. Said I wanted to see her legs as she- w- walked toward me. Said I wanted a dress to ma- match her eyes.” I paused before I could break down again. I looked up and around at the gathered faces once again before going on in a broken voice, “She- she was going to do it. This- this means she was going to- to- to-“ I couldn’t finish the thought. I couldn’t breath. I’d just discovered another layer of loss, of pain. My chest felt like it was on fire.

Lisa rose to put her arms around my neck and rocked me like a child. I felt a hand on my shoulder, gripping gently but firmly, giving me a little shake. I didn’t know which of the brothers it was. It didn’t matter. My autonomic systems kicked in and I drew in a ragged, loud breath. I could feel myself shaking, trembling. I disengaged from Lisa, stood and hung the now damp dress in the closet. I wondered idly if the tears would stain the fabric. “Take- take the rest.” I managed to force the words out of my mouth. Then I closed the closet. I leaned my forehead into the door. “Now , _please_ get the hell out.”

I remained standing with my back to them. I heard the rustling as the rest of the garments were gathered. I heard the quiet footsteps as people left the room. I waited a little longer, for silence. When it came I went and lay on our bed, closed my eyes and dreamed of holding her, of feeling the firm muscle of her. Even after months of convalescence she’d retained the flat planes of her athletic form. I dreamed of holding and touching all the soft curves of her; her hips, her breasts, her lips. I dreamt of the warmth of her radiating into me, of the taste and smell of strawberries and when I woke, it was morning. I’d slept as I always did in this room, in this bed, without nightmares.

I made my way to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked better rested but very rumpled. I’d slept in my clothes, in my duster, with my shoes on. I looked into the drawers and closet in the guest room. A few of my things were still there including the AC/DC T-shirt she loved to steal from me to sleep in. I picked it up and sniffed. Yes, this too smelled of her. I put it back in the drawer and chose a flannel button down. Another piece of mine Karrin often ‘borrowed’. It smelled fresh from the laundry, not of her.

I showered in tepid water. I’d finally killed Karrin’s water heater. For some reason that made me laugh.

By the time I got out of the shower the water had gone quite cold. I decided, while I dressed, to ask Michael about a plumber. Then, before I left to pick Maggie up from school for the weekend, I took a quick inventory of the house to see what had been removed by Karrin’s well meaning family. 

The fridge had been purged. No matter my kitchen at the ‘castle’ was well stocked. The brownies saw to that. The new Summer Lady, Sarissa, had renewed Lily’s contract for me now that I had a place again.

Everything in and on the dresser except for a picture of Maggie, Mouse and me was gone. There were a couple of changes linens left and there had been towels in the bathroom. They’d left her shampoo. I sniffed it, remembering. It still had scent. Strawberries. They’d also left her large, well stocked first aide kit. I wondered whether to take that back home or leave it here. I’d decided to leave it here for now when I caught myself.

This wasn’t ‘home’. The castle was ‘home’. 

This was a shrine, a shrine to Karrin, a shrine to what I’d lost, to the futures that would never be. I felt another tear leaking out of the corner of my eye. But just one. I felt a dull ache inside but not the stabbing, debilitating pain of yesterday. Made it through another cycle then. I’d accepted the death of one of our futures; the ‘we’ll get married’ one.

Last week- was it only last week?- I’d finally said good-bye to the ‘we’ll have a child’ future. I’d thought I’d said good-bye to that one long ago, but apparently some small corner of my mind had hung onto that hope. It was triggered by dropping Maggie off at school of all things. She’d been promoted up a grade after a conference with the teachers and administrators that included me, and Maggie herself. I hadn’t asked for it. The powers that be at St. Mark’s felt she needed the academic challenge. I’d agreed because Maggie seemed excited. I _felt_ like I was losing my little girl, that she was growing up too fast.

And that had done it. I realized that, though the odds had been stacked against us, I’d still held onto the ghost of a hope that there might be a little Murphy-Dresden hybrid running around. Murphy had, at one point, wanted children. We hadn’t talked about it and I probably would never have asked, because child bearing had been involved in her divorce from Rick, but I guess- no, I _know_ a part of me had wanted a child with her. I might have other children in the future but they wouldn’t be Murphy’s.

Heck, Mab’s trying to use me as a prize bull to breed a Winter/White Court scion! I don’t know how that’s going to work. I’m not giving up Karrin’s love protection willingly. I’ll bet even artificial insemination would burn the dickens out of Lara. Besides, can White Court females even have children? Seems the only offspring of the Raith family have come from the males. But what do I know? And right now I can’t ask Thomas and don’t trust my _‘fiancé’_.

I checked the hidden gun safe. No one had yet found her cache of mostly illegal weapons. I took all the reloading and cleaning equipment and put it into a small box to carry with me. I’d be able to make reloads for the Sig, for ‘Backup’ now. I’d get a book on how to clean it properly. Murphy had used cleaning her guns as a Zen activity to center herself. She’d stressed to me the importance of cleaning your weapons. She’d always cleaned my revolvers. Now I’d have to do it.

I re-locked the safe. I didn’t know how I was going to dispose of the cache. Maybe I’d ask Kincaid for some advice. He might even like to have the P90 as a remembrance. He’d given it to her in a box of chocolates before they broke up. It had been one of her favorites.

I glanced over the house as I prepared to leave. No, I wasn’t ready to let go just yet. She was still here; laughing over coffee at the kitchen table, stepping out of the shower wet, dripping and smelling of strawberry shampoo. If I sat in the corner of the couch I would be able to feel her leaning into me as she’d done when we read. And I still felt her when I slept in our bed. But soon- soon I’d be able take my memories with me and let the house go. Soon I wouldn’t need any shrine but the one in my heart and a few remembrances. Maybe 40-50 years. Well, that’s _soon_ to a wizard.

I picked up the box and walked out to Karrin’s garage. That’s where I’d left the company car. I went to the nearest Burger King for a to go breakfast and drove to get my daughter, my future or, at least, the only future I knew.

**Author's Note:**

> There may be more to this. There may not. Grief isn't something you can predict.


End file.
